As soon as James and his companions reached the designated location, he noticed five figures already waiting. They were rough-looking, likely the city guards who had been on night duty.
"Are you here for the shift change? What are your numbers?" boomed a massive man, his voice carrying across the clearing. His F-class upper-grade aura was intimidating, and his broad frame radiated authority. With a nod to their leader, the man advanced on James and the others, his footsteps heavy and full of purpose.
The group's response was immediate. Except for James and Carmen, everyone rushed to shout out their identification numbers, eyes wide in fear at the big man's commanding presence. Even the top-grade F-level member of their team didn't hesitate to fall in line.
But not James. Nor Carmen.
The big man's eyes narrowed when he noticed the two of them remaining silent, unphased by his intimidating display. His face twisted in frustration. "Are you two deaf?" he barked, his voice rising in anger. Without waiting for a reply, he lunged at Carmen, his massive hand outstretched to grab him.
James watched carefully, noticing something shift in Carmen's demeanor. The playful gleam in his eyes vanished, replaced by something far more dangerous; cold, sharp, and filled with murderous intent.
Bang!
A deafening crash split the air. The next thing anyone knew, the huge man was on the ground, his wrist firmly caught in Carmen's grasp. The ground beneath him had cracked from the sheer force of the throw, and dust billowed up around him as the stunned onlookers gaped in disbelief.
Even the big guy himself seemed confused. His mind was still catching up with the fact that he'd been thrown like a ragdoll. "You—!" he began, his face flushed with anger, but his words were cut off by a sudden, searing pain in his wrist.
He let out a scream, the acrid smell of burning flesh rising into the air. Carmen's grip wasn't just strong, it was blistering. His hand had left a mark, the scent of scorched skin unmistakable.
With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, Carmen let go, shoving the man's hand back to him as if it were nothing. He smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. "Next time, be more careful," he said lightly. "Lucky for you it was me. If it had been someone else, you might not be walking away with just a burned hand."
The big guy clutched his wrist, groaning, while the rest of his team hurried to help him up. Everyone was still too shocked to speak.
"Alright, that's enough," the team leader interjected, stepping forward to diffuse the situation. "The shift change has happened. Get your guys back to camp. And don't forget to come back for the next rotation."
He waved the city guards away before turning to James and the others. "There's an important passage just ahead, leading directly to our camp. Your mission is simple: kill any alien species wandering near this passage. But if you encounter a group or anything stronger than you can handle, contact me immediately."
The leader's tone shifted slightly as he looked at Carmen, acknowledging the strength he had just demonstrated. "This passage is crucial to the camp. We're transporting a lot of valuable mineral resources through it, and although we have guards accompanying those shipments, alien creatures tend to appear here in groups. Don't try to handle anything beyond your capabilities. Report it."
He pointed to a nearby sentry post. "Our people are stationed there. They'll keep track of the number and rank of any alien species you kill, and you can report any problems to them. That's all. Get to work."
With a final nod, the leader turned and walked away, leaving James's group standing at the entrance of the passage.
James glanced at the sentry and smirked to himself. 'What a smart plan,' he thought. 'Using a few spirit crystals to hire people to guard the passage, while also reaping the benefits of the strange beast materials they collect. Two birds with one stone.'
But for James, none of that mattered. He wasn't here for the mission. He was here for something else: vitality.
Suddenly, a rustling sound nearby caught his attention. Emerging from a crack in the rocks, a giant centipede, classified as an intermediate F-grade, scuttled forward with terrifying speed. Its many legs clicked against the rocks as it rushed straight for James, its mandibles snapping.
Instinctively, James moved to summon his Scythe of Death to finish the creature in one blow. But then he hesitated, realizing it might be suspicious for someone of his supposed low level to take out a mid-level F-grade creature so easily. Smirking under his mask, he simply sidestepped, letting the centipede's momentum carry it past him.
The creature, confused, continued straight into Carmen's path.
"Have fun with that," James muttered under his breath, watching as the centipede lunged at his fiery companion.
As the giant centipede lunged toward him, Carmen's expression hardened. With a quick inhale, a wave of scorching energy surged through him. He pressed his palm down onto the centipede's head, and in an instant, the creature sizzled, transforming into a charred pile of barbecue.
"Whoa..." Carmen glanced over at James, who stood there frozen, eyes wide. Raising an eyebrow, he was about to comment when he realized that James had deliberately sidestepped the attack.
"I'll give you some money," James said nonchalantly, spreading his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just a low-grade F-grade fighter. I'd get squashed by that thing."
Carmen's expression twisted into an incredulous smirk, a line of disbelief forming on his forehead.
[Host devours 67 points of F-level medium-quality alien vitality, growth value +134 points.]
The notification lit up James's eyes. Ignoring Carmen's incredulous stare, he walked past him, seeking a relatively clean patch of ground among the five people. He settled down, ready to meditate and circulate his Qi.
"Seriously, you're bold," Carmen said, having dispatched a few low-grade aliens of his own. He approached James, curiosity etched on his face. "Aren't you worried that more aliens might rush in and drain your energy too quickly? You could damage your meridians!"
James raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Carmen's concern. "What's the worst that could happen? You're all strong enough to handle it. I'm just a low-grade thug; the base rewards will cover me just fine," he replied casually, resuming his energy circulation.
"Heh, interesting," Carmen said, a hint of admiration in his tone. He decided to let the matter drop, observing James's unique approach.
In truth, James felt no fear about damaging his meridians. If they broke, he could simply replace them with straw. He was enjoying himself immensely.
Around him, Carmen and the others were engaged in continuous skirmishes with an endless stream of alien creatures. In just two hours, James's growth value surged by over a thousand points.
"This is what they call auto-upgrade!" he thought gleefully, flipping through his mental panel and delighting in the prompts chiming in his mind. It felt like a sweet treat, his excitement palpable.
"At this rate, I'll level up in no time," he mused, glancing at his growth value, 8536/10000. An idea suddenly sparked in his mind. "If I could slip into a larger battlefield, wouldn't that catapult my progress?"
The thought solidified in his mind: he would find a way to participate in a large-scale war, preferably taking on a role as a shadowy gangster.
[The host devours 77 points of F-level medium-quality alien vitality, growth value +154 points.]
[The host devours 43 points of F-level inferior alien vitality, growth value +86 points.]
Time flowed on, and just as James was lost in his thoughts, a long-lost notification rang in his mind, drawing a wide smile beneath his mask.
[The host devoured 18 points of G-level superior alien vitality, growth value +36 points. The current growth value is 10009/10000, which meets the promotion conditions. Do you wish to promote?]
His mind raced with excitement. The opportunity was within his grasp, and he couldn't wait to take the next step in his journey.